Enters Lauren
by shura mezzki
Summary: A Crossover between Dr. Who(of course) and The Catherine Tate Show.
1. Chapter 1

The Doctor is Bovvered

_Hallo everyone! _

_I do not own any characters and etc.. etc.._

I park the TARDIS, shrugging on my brown trench coat, I look outside to see a 21st century high school somewhere in London, England. "Why did you take me here?" I ask confusedly, looking into my TARDIS, a echoing _whewwhewwhew_ answering my one-side question. Shrugging complacently, I step out and close the door behind me, checking if my psychic paper is with me in case I run into some dead ends.

It seems as if the students are already in their classes, with some choice characters being the exception. Finally wandering upon the school's main office I pass the secretary while flashing my V.I.T paper (Very Important Timelord), barging in on the principle scolding a female student with flaming hair.

"Lauren why must you always-!"

" . . have a fat back- . -Lonely .Look-I AIN'T BOVVERED!"

"Well, we will see how "bovvered" you are while serving detention for a MONTH! OUT!" I could only stand there slack jawed at the flaming girl's surly behavior towards authority, shocking me further when she said the principle had Mad Cow Disease. I straighten up as the poor woman sighs into her open hands, frustration pouring from her in waves. I go to sit where the girl called "Lauren Cooper" was a few seconds ago, clearing my throat awkwardly, I'm greetede by a pair of tired eyes almost immediately.

"I-I'm here-"

"So you're Mr. Logan. Sire, you are late for your substitute position."

"Ah,sorry, I sorta... Lost my way here"

"Well you are new, so no harm done- MS. QUINN!" She shouts suddenly, making me jolt a little in my seat.

The secretary I had walked past gingerly opened the door, her tiny shoulders curled into herself, tiny body peeking into the office. "Yes ma'am?" the woman named Ms. Quinn squeaks out, her face looking at her shoes. "Could you please escort Mr. Logan to his substitute class?" "of course ma'am." She looks up at me briefly, we lock eyes for just a moment until she quickly docks her head, her cheeks reddening every second, "thank you Ms. Quinn, now if you will excuse me." She waves us way, Ms. Quinn leading away to my class.

"So... Ms. Quinn, was it?" I ask after a moment of silence, "Yes Mr. Logan, is there something you wished to discuss?" Ms. Quinn asks timidly, her back still facing me as she continues forwards. "Have you seen anything... strange... lately?" I word cautiously, deciding her to be harmless enough. "Nothing as of late Mr. Logan, why do you if I may ask?", "Ooh, no reason really, just... Curiosity" I say before she stops in front of a wooden door, turning to look at me in the eyes, surprising me with worry written in them. "Mr. Logan... Good luck..." Her last words to me as she walks back to the main office. 'Good luck...', luck with what exactly? I ask myself as I pull out my glasses and enter the room, seeing the cause of the nervous woman's distress: Lauren Cooper. Arms crossed in front of her chest and bored expression on her face.

Gulping silently, I close the door behind me, greeting the class and having one that seemed practiced returned to me at once. I introduce myself, starting off smoothly, Hmm, not to bad, Ms. Quinn must have been worr- "Siiire?" I hear her pikey voice call out for my attention, her stare going through my body indifferently. "Yeah" I respond, hoping for the best, "are you English, sire?" She questions, her voice mocking in it's unhidden attempt.

As I look back at her,; flaming hair and all, I am left with this one word... _Shit!_

_Thanks to all that decided to give it a read! Please give me some feedback! Night!_


	2. Chapter 2

Enters Lauren

_Hallo everyone!_

_I do not own any characters_

"Are English, sire?" She asks again as I'm brought to attention again. "No, I'm Scottish" I reply, looking down to find the page I've assigned, hoping if I ignore her bait she'll lose interest. "So you ain't English then." She tells me all of a sudden, I look back at her in shock for a moment, "No, I'm British." "So you ain't English then." She says again boredly; I start to find some humour in this rabble, "No, I'm not but as you can see I do speak English." I tell her calmly. "But I can't understand what your saying, sir." She tells me, her voice sounding a bit peeved at my indiference so far, I smile softly at her attempt. "Well clearly you can." I look at her knowingly with a smile, "Sorry, are you talking Scottish now?" "No, I'm talking English." "Right. Don't sound like it." The novelty of being spoken to in such a... rude way wearing off, I sigh and walk infront of my desk. "Okay, whatever you want. Now, let's get on with Shakespeare." I say to end the pointless discussion of my origins(rather unnerving actually...), I look down at the book, finding page 52 and ready to begin. "I don't think you're qualified to teach us English." I roll my eyes before looking up at her, bored expression still on her face. "I am perfectly qualified to teach you English." I say tiredly as I adjusted my seating. "I don't think you are though." Lauren says triumphantly, "You don't have to be English to teach it." "Right, have we got double English, or double Scottish?" She says mockingly. I look at her with narrowed eyes, my temper just below the surface, raising like boiling water in a pot, threatening to overflow from it. "Lauren, your reputation procedes you." I tell her, suspicion written on her face, "How do you know my name?" She asks, her body tense, "You pushed pass me in the principle's office- very rude what you said about her by the way" I tell her before gathering my thoughts.

"So, Shakespeare's sonnets-"

"Sir?" Lauren calls out again. Tired of her, I continue on with my lecture.

"A sonnet is a poem-"

"Sir?"

"-written in fourteen-"

"Sir?"

"-lines-"

"Sir?"

"- the last two of which-"

"Sir?" She says innocently, her eyes large and begging yet full of mockery.

"-must form a rhyming couplet-"

"Sir?"

"YES, lauren?" I shout slightly, the dam about to break. "Can I aks you a question?" "Not just now." "Can I aks you a question now?" "Just wait." " But can I just aks you a question? I only want to aks you a question. Can't I aks you a question? I'm just aksing you a question. Can't I aks you a question?" she rants snoddily, bobbing her head left to right when she's done. "What is it?" I ask exasperatedly. She leans forwards, licking her lips like a cat that has just corned a mouse, "Are you the Doctor?"

Everything seems to have slowed down as she me the question every person and alien I've come across has asked me. Calming my stance and face, I look at her with a bemused expression, "Doctor Who?"Immediately the entire class burst out in laughter, I look around bewildedly. "It is you!" Lauren and her companion, Liese Jackson I believe, say in unison.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You look like Doctor Who though!"

" I'm not Doctor Who, I'm your English teacher." I tell her defensively

"I don't think you are though." She continues

"Lauren."

" I think you're a nine hundred and forty five year old Time Lord."

I can feel my temper flairing up from someone I've just met know so much about my identity, "Lauren" I warningly say

"Did you just pitch up from Mars?"

"Don't be ridiculous." _I planned on going there after this! _I think to myself.

"You know your house, right."

"What?"

"You know your house?" she asks again

"Yes."

"Is it bigger on the inside?"

"Be quiet." I telll her darkly

"Have you parked the TARDIS on a meter?" She asks mockingly, jestering with her hands.

"Can we please get back to Shakespeare!" I shout her her, tired of her shenanigans.

Sucking on her teeth, she leans back into her chair, becoming queit as I asked. "Thank you. So-" "Do you fancy Rose Taylor, sir?" she asks quietly. "Right-" I say as I throw down my book and stand up exasperatedly, putting my hands on either side of my slim hips, "-You are the most insolent child I have ever had the misfortune to teach!" I rant.

"Thank you."

"You're pointless, repetitious and extremely dull-"

"A bit like Shakespeare."

"You're not even worthy to mention his name, William Shakes -" I say, my rage bursting out in waves. "-William Shakespeare was a genius, you, little madam are definitely not. Now just sit there and keep your mouth shut or I will fail you in this whole module right now!"

She sucks her teeth again, leaning forward with her hands open in a way of surrendering, which I'm certain that is not the case. "Ammist I bovvered?" I stare at her a moment puzzled, taken back by her correct useage of victorian speech, "Lauren-" " Ammist I bovvered forsooth?" "Lauren-" "Looketh at my face." "I don't-" "looketh at my face." "Stop it." I tell her warningly, my voice in a near growl.

"Is this a bovvered face thou see before thee?"

"Right, I'm calling your parents."

"Are you disrespecting the house of Cooper?!"

"What?!"

"Are thou calling my mother a pox ridden wench?!"

"Enough."

"Are thou calling my father a goodly rotten apple?!"

"Enough."

"But he ain't even a goodly rotten apple-"

"Listen to me-"

"But he ain't even a goodly rotten apple, though!"

" That's enough."

"Faceth –"

"Lauren-"

" -bovveredeth-"

"-Lauren, enough."

"-Looketh-"

"Enough."

"-Looketh-"

"-Stop, that's it-"

"But my liege-"

"-No, stop-"

"-My liege-"

"-Shh, enough-"

"-My liege-"

"-No-"

"-My liege-"

"-Enough-"

" . -"

"-Lauren-"

"You take the high road and I'll take the low." She says to me in Scottish, making me speechless in mortification.

" I ain't even bovvered. I ain't bovvered. Look, face, bovvered, bovvered, face, bovvered, I ain't even bovvered. My liege, I be not bovvered forsooth, I be not bovvered. Face, bovvered, I ain't even bovvered, face, bovvered, Shakespeare, sonnets, I ain't even bovvered." She rants in triumph, a smile on her ginger face with every word that comes out of her pikey mouth.

"My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun,

Coral is far more red than her lips' red.

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

If hair be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damasked, red and white,

But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfurmes is there more delight

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound.

I grant I never saw a goddess go:

My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.

And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare

As any she belied with false compare.

Bite me, alien boy!" She bangs on her desk with a finish, her friend nodding her head with a mean mug on her face. I stare at Lauren in shock, amazement and fury. Pulling out my sonic screwdriver, I morph her body, making her a tiny version of my old lo- companion: Rose...

"That's better. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." I quote cheekily, smiling to the class before continuing on with the lesson. " I still ain't bovvered!" Lauren screams in a tiny voice.

~0~

"Are you ready to apologize now, Lauren?" I ask amused, I smirk at her incapacitated new form. "I ain't bovvered!" she shouts at me in defiance, I laugh heartedly, knowing she would comeback with that line. "Okay then, I'll just leave you here for a few-" "NO! NO! Please NOOO!" She pleads, her doll form shaking from her voice, falling over. I chuckle lightly, picking her up. "Say "please."" I say in a sing-song voice, smiling sweetly at her. "... Please..." she mumbles, "hmm? What was that?" I say in feigned ignorance. "Please change me back!" She cries out, making me laugh out loud, "alright then." pulling out my screwdriver, I reverse the effects I've done to her body.

I look up to see her shaken expression, her arms reaching out to grab my shoulders; handd shaking from her atoms being changed. She cocks her head up to look at me; parted panting lips, raising chest, fiery eyes- "_she looks like a vengeful goddes- wait shes looking at me like th-" _I think to myself before she knocks me out cold.

_Thanks for reading sweethearts!_

_sorry if my grammer and such is horrible._

_I got the comic relief parts from here: _ . .

_Night/Morning!_


End file.
